


Star Pilot

by Innocuate



Category: Metroid Series
Genre: Angst, Science Fiction, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 17:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14525478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocuate/pseuds/Innocuate
Summary: Great!!You fulfilled your mission.It will revive peace for the small and the weak.But, only time will tell the outcome of your efforts.Pray for a true peace!





	1. Chapter 1

Her little ship floats on the far edge of a beautiful explosion. Its window looks out over a sea of radiant, flowering blasts, in hot pinks and reds that stretch to bright white. Waves of heat rise and push against the window, rocking her craft. She shakes in the captain’s chair. The starlight above seems to rumble. Another heatwave comes, sending her rolling back further, then the force subsides, and she spins, head turning, lights vibrating, the horizon burning before slowly fading its incredible flash. The rotations soften; she hangs silently in their wake. As the warmth dies and the vast sky takes the brightness back, she stares out, the whole universe reflecting in her blue irises.

            “Lady,” says a voice from inside her cabin. The speaker’s tone is masculine and robotic. “You’re endangering your crew to watch the fireworks?”

            “I have no crew,” she replies. Her words are thin, frayed. Worn through. “I just want to see the end of it.”

            “ _You_ are a part of your crew.” The speaker insists.

            She blinks, lowering her eyes, inspecting her feet under the chair.

            “ _You_ need to keep yourself safe. Do I need to make it an order?”

            She sighs. Exasperation digs into the lines of her eyelids. “No.” She looks back over the dying fires, flaming hulls of fought vessels floating in the smoke. “You could have said that ten minutes ago.”

            “There were other lives to save, then.”

            “Not anymore.”

            Starlight shines in the ship cabin, a pale shimmering in the glow of rosy flames. Debris spreads to encircle the view: remnants of fighters and frigates suspend themselves in the settling peace. The voice pauses for a long while. “Lady,” it says from inside the cabin. “Don’t cry.”

            “It always ends like this when I get involved.”

            “Don’t—”

            “Don’t what?” She shakes her head, lengths of glossy hair sticking to wet tears on her cheeks. “Don’t admit that I’m always the constant here? That I’m always the one to light the fuse and run?”

            “You did not end this fight alone.”

            “Then why am I the only one left?”

            “I’m here.”

            The captain frowns like she’s bitten her tongue. “No,” she says. Teardrops refract a thousand sources of light. “… You’re not here. You died a long time ago. Adam.”

            The speaker system does not respond.

            Samus tugs a lever by her captain’s chair, reclining the seat. The long gunship window above her looks out over the whole cosmos. In the distance, destroyed bits of spacecraft collide and break down into glittering stardust, mixing with meteoroids in the cosmic currents. Faraway stars of fuchsia and gold gleam on the metallic flotsam from lightyears away. Spacious neon gases tinge dark corners with the colors of corals, scales, and seas. Soaring comets swim overhead. Their tails of ice paint the infinite night.

            For all its beauty, the space is quiet, forever voiceless despite the wars it hosts. Samus rests in sympathy.

            A sudden and high-pitched beep resounds. “You’re requested at a Federation tribunal in six hours on Earth. Command doesn’t sound happy with you.” Adam’s computerized voice fades in and out of the electric speakers.

            She looks up at a final memory of the mission, drinking the ocean of soundless light.

            She pilots her ship away.


	2. Chapter 2

It is raining on Earth. She parks under heavy storm clouds that pitter and patter against her roof. She watches the sliding, smearing water fall down her windshield. Her arms are crossed over her knees, back scrunched into her seat.

            “This is morose.”

            She does not listen.

            “Your meeting is in twenty minutes. I wouldn’t imagine you’d like to be late.”

            Her jaw grinds in annoyance. She does not reply.

            “Lady… Has something come between us? You never used to be… So…”

            “Adam, please give me a moment to myself.”

            “… Understood. I would mind the patience of the board.” Adam shuts up. Samus breathes. Drops slide down the wet, blue windshield.

            Below, city lights are drowned in weather. Skyscrapers forest the air over thousands of alleyways and dripping video billboards. The runoff drains through the streets towards the east, where it falls into a wide, coarse ocean overshadowed by the largest building in the city. It is a massive steel monument; a mountain by its thin rivals, smoothly walled and over-polished. Layers of dense architecture make it look shielded and defensive.

            She approaches the building. A military officer speaks to her as she nears. “There’s a spot for you to park on upper deck five. Welcome home, Samus.”

            She whispers to herself as she drives in. “Headquarters. Not home.”

            “I can be inside with you, if you need.” Adam says.

            She puts on her suit, staring out at the grey garage through her window. It is still stained with droplets. Some collect and slide away. She blinks. “No. I’ll meet you back here.” She leaves.

            The hallways inside are flooded with even fluorescence and clean, sterile air. It tastes antiseptic; she hardly notices. She is distracted, listening to the rainy downpour through the ceiling, its sound like little bits of starships falling from outer space.

            Suddenly she is front of the hearing room door. An officer stands by it, holding a gun to their chest. They look at one another. There is an awkward silence.

            “Um. They’re ready for you, Samus. You can go in.”

            She looks at the door.

            “… Is there a problem?”

            “Sorry.” She lowers her head and enters the room.

            The door behind her shuts and closets her in shadow. There is a shift; Samus is elevated and the floor rises slowly to a stage in a dimly lit auditorium. Ahead are rows and layers of desks spotted with lamplight. Jurors sit behind them, notetaking materials in hand. They stare at her. A woman sits at their center, wearing army dress, who shuffles a stack of papers and clears her throat into a microphone. She conducts the trial.

            “Please confirm your name for the jury.”

            “My name is Samus Aran.”

            “What is the previous job designation you were given by the Galactic Federation?”

            “Janitorial security, Biologic Space wreckage.” One hundred pens move.

            “Do you understand why you’re here, Samus Aran, Biologic security?”

            Rainfall outside slams the room’s metal rooftop. Thunder reverberates down its walls. “I understand the issue at hand to be complex.”

            “Allow me to bring you up to speed with the rest of the jury. Approximately twenty-two trillion in Federation assets have been irreparably destroyed and over fourteen hundred lives were lost due to actions undertaken by you on Biologic property. Does that sound accurate?”

            “Those figures and your phrasing do not fully depict the necessity of—”

            “It says here that you detonated a thermonuclear device during our defense of the wreckage. Up to your decision the outcome of battle was declared uncertain but in our favor.”

            “You weren’t there, you have no idea…”

            “Last transmissions from onsite Aurora intelligence say otherwise and granted no permission for your choice. Do you have any other witnesses to present in support of what you did?”

            “… Ad…”

            The officer smiles. “Adam Malkovich? By law, artificial intelligences cannot directly attest to the hearings of organic defendants. Is there anyone else you would posit?”

            “No.”

            “Good. With appreciation towards everyone’s time here, I intend to make this a quick and speedy trail. Samus Aran, do you plead guilty to all damages and loss of life as described by the court?”

             “No!”

            She leans forward. “Security officer Aran, you understand that you are under oath during this hearing. It is within your best interest to speak truthfully. Are you the sole individual responsible for this destruction of Federation property and resultant death of one thousand four hundred and thirty-two enlisted peoples?”

            “…”

            “Officer Aran,” she says, purposefully pacing out every word. “ _Is this your fault_?”

            “Yes!” She cries. “Yes,” as tears overwhelm her. They fall freely with the rain. “Yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Move.”

            A guard pushes her forward with the nose of a rifle. She is handcuffed, stumbling forward, her head low and hooded by loose bangs. They make for a public exit to the conference room. There is shouting outside the door.

            The woman in the news cameras has championed battles. She has played savior to billions of people and explored the darkest reaches of the universe. But there is no preparation for the chaotic reporters and journalists fumbling over one another to scream that Samus Aran is a traitor, a convict, and a murderer. They throw microphones into her sobbing mouth and demand answers she does not have. The guard attempts to push them back and make room but the effort is almost useless; there are dozens in the mob. Her hair is pulled on and spit in as the crowd beats the greatest space warrior ever to have lived. The long walk to the hall elevator is worse than Hell.

            They are inside, the clamor dies down, and Samus sinks to the ground sucking hoarse, hiccupped breaths. She trembles and cries and folds in on herself. Her lips touch the metal floor.

            The guard kneels beside her. “Ain’t no-one gonna get you in here, Princess. It’s safe.”

            All at once the tears stop. Samus lifts her head, recognizing the friendly voice. “Anthony?”

            He removes his helmet to reveal a tender smile. “Glad you remembered me. You okay?”

            She drops her head onto his shoulder as he wraps his arms around hers. The sweat on his neck smells like barracks they neighbored bunks in. “No.”

            “Hey, now, it’s gonna be okay. I’m real sorry about up there, Samus. They should’ve known better than to let the press in after all that.”

            She sniffs. “They knew I’d be a pretty wreck for the media after that shitshow trial. Nothing about that was okay.”

            “I wish I could’ve been there earlier. Least I can help out now.”

            Samus pulls back from his shoulder and wipes her cheeks. “Are you going to help me get out of here?”

            Anthony laughs. “Nah, you know I would if I could. But I ain’t taking you to jail, neither. You got someone who wants to see you.”

            “Who?”

            The elevator dings and Anthony helps Samus back to her feet before the doors open. “Wish I could stick around, Princess, but this is the end of the road for me. Give me a ring when this is all over, alright?”

            “Anthony…”

            The doors open and he steps out, leaving her behind. A woman in uniform takes his place. A Federation official, the same one that conducted her trial.

            Samus grits her jaw.

            The official walks into the elevator and lets it close behind her. Without looking, she reaches towards the floor buttons and presses the emergency lock. The two stare at each other for a silent second.

            “Turn around.”

            Samus hesitates.

            “You know I’m direct, Officer Aran, I would kill you head-on if I was thinking about it. Turn around. Don’t make me ask a third time.”

            She turns away from the official slowly. There is a soft click before Samus feels the handcuffs release from her wrists. She faces her again, eyes narrowing in confusion.

            “You will call me Commander Angseth. Have you heard the name before?”

            “… No?”

            “You have a poor memory. Log data the Federation recovered from your exploration of planet Aether showed that you scanned the corpse of a Specialist Angseth shortly after arriving. Ring any bells?”

            “She was the only woman on Squad Bravo before…” She pauses. “I’m sorry for your loss, if you two were related.”

            “She was my sister. She was on Aether because she would not shut the fuck up to her commanding officer about how her favorite bounty hunter, Samus Aran, would never spend so long cooped up training at headquarters.” The Commander takes a step closer to Samus. “Apparently, Bravo Team’s attack went unknown for up to an hour. Because my sister’s favorite bounty hunter was too busy looking for Space Pirate signals to be tuned into the Federation network.”

            Samus swallows.

            “It’s evident from your most recent exploits that you value the destruction of the Space Pirates over human life.”

            “…”

             Angseth moves away from Samus so that she looks towards the doors. “The Federation needed a scapegoat for the incredible expenses suffered at Biologic. But they can’t afford to lose an effective killing machine like yourself. You’re needed at other places in the cosmos. In name only, you have been discharged from the Galactic Federation, but your contract with us has been extended until the completion of a new mission.”

            “You can’t do that!”

            The Commander smiles over her shoulder. “You want to pay the twenty-two trillion? Be my guest. Until then, you’re a war criminal. You don’t get a say.”

            “You put me through all of this for another mission?!”

            “You should be glad it’s not your life in a cell.” Angseth shifts to meet Samus’ eyes. “If I had my way, it would be public execution.”

            “Fuck you.”

            The Commander surges forward, grabbing Samus by the throat and pinning her against the elevator wall. “You let my sister _die_ , you bitch! I would pull the fucking lever myself just to see your body hang. You watch your mouth when speaking to a superior, understand?” She flexes her grip. “Understand?!” Samus nods, and Angseth drops her, letting her crumple to the floor. She coughs and chokes on her own saliva as the Commander dusts her hands.

            “Your briefing starts right now. Information you picked up during the Phaaze Campaign about a Dread Project has gained support from our intelligence division. The Pirates are organizing again. The Federation believes Dread is some kind of weapon, potentially a planet destroyer.” She leans down to where Samus is still struggling for breath and massaging her neck. “We need you to figure out what they’re doing and put an end to it. And you’re not off the hook until you do. Is that clear, Officer?”

            Samus glares up at her. “Crystal.”

            “Good.” The Commander presses the lock button again and the elevator doors open. “More information is loaded into your new ship, on deck seven. I hope we never meet again.” She walks away and turns right out of view, leaving Samus by herself.

            She leans back, still breathing heavily after being grabbed. She rolls her eyes and sighs angrily. She balls her fists. Samus tenses her arm and slams her hand into the side of the metal box, making a dent in its wall. The elevator shakes and its doors close again.


	4. Chapter 4

The elevator screeches in descent as if it’s undergoing a mechanical failure. Samus waits inside in the blue jumpsuit she usually wears under her armor. Her powered suit cannot operate while she is under emotional duress; certainly, when the elevator grinds to a halt and its doors open, they reveal a barrage of fist and heel marks that dig into the metal lining of its walls. Some have even punched all the way through. She steps out into the garage.

            A robot plated in heavy black armor meets her outside the elevator. It’s bulky, standing on two legs, with a wide chest that surrounds a textbox on its front: the red lettering that scrolls across it seems to be its main form of communication. <HOWDY PARTNER,> it displays. <NAME’S AVO!>

            Samus spares the android a glance but keeps moving forward. There is an orange ship on the far side of the garage that she assumes to be hers.

            The robot, tenacious, moves in front of her and walks backwards so its textbox remains in view. <SHOOT, I AIN’T MUCH FOR INTRODUCTIONS NEITHER. BUT BOSS ANGSETH’S SENT ME TO COME ALONG ON YOUR MISSION.>

            She keeps walking. “I work alone.”

            <HEY, THAT’S ALL HUNKY DORY, I STAY OUT OF THE WAY! BOSS ANGSETH JUST WANTS ANOTHER PAIR OF EYES ON YOU AS YOU’RE OUT IN SPACE. KEEP THINGS NEAT AND TIDY, YOU KNOW?>

            “You are _not_ going to get on my ship.” She sneers.

            <I AIN’T MEANT FOR THIS NEWS TO BE BAD, BUT NO CAN DO. ORDERS IS ORDERS.>

            “You have got to be kidding me.”

            <WELL HECK, GIVE OLD AVO A SHOT FIRST, BUD. I’M SURE WE’LL GET ALONG RIGHT QUICK. COUPLE DAYS BETWEEN THE STARS AND WE’LL BE TIGHT AS TWINS!>

            She stops replying out of exhaustion. They approach the replacement gunship, the same model Samus used around the time she discovered the Dread Project. Whereas her old vessel was meant for exploration, this one is outfitted with weaponry: heavy guns and missile launchers line its sides and make for a bulkier ride. The vehicle looks better equipped for dogfighting and raiding than reconnaissance.

            <WHEW-IE! THOSE LOOK LIKE THEY PACK A WALLOP. MIGHTY FINE SHIP, THIS ONE…>

            Samus climbs aboard, ignoring the rest of Avo’s text. The interior is quiet and unlit but sparks to life as soon as Samus passes by its insides. Displays hum and welcome her. The captain’s chair ahead swings around automatically for her to take a seat as she approaches.

            <LITTLE CRAMPED IN HERE. GOT A SEAT FOR ME?>

            “Hope not.” She starts fiddling with the ship’s controls, poking at its screens of light to acquaint herself.

            Without her permission or input, Adam’s synthetic mind transfers into the cabin and starts speaking over its intercom. “I want you to know, nothing that happened in that hearing was your fault, lady. Don’t let it get to you that—”

            “You know what?” Samus interrupts. “The real you never said lady so much. He used it when giving orders, he didn't bug me with it like you do. If you plan on being a good artificial replica maybe you should know what he _actually_ sounded like.”

            Adam’s voice hardens. “Samus… Are you trying to insinuate that I’m not myself? I've only been trying to foster a relationship between us. I know things are different and that the past few days have been difficult, but I truly only want things to be easier for you.”

            “I don’t want things to be any fucking easier, I want them to be over!”

            “You need to calm down.”

            “You need to mute yourself.”

            “I’m not going to—”

            “Adam, mute.”

            “ _What_?”

            “I said mute. Mute computer.”

            “You can’t—”

            “Ship computer sound off.”

            The ship returns to silence. Samus breathes heavily and buries her face in her hands. Behind her, out of her line of sight, Avo’s textbox flashes red. <DANG.>

            She takes a minute to compose herself, rubbing her temples and massaging the skin around her eyes. She speaks to herself out of resignation. “I can’t do this anymore. This better be the last mission, I don’t know what I’ll do otherwise.” She lets the air pass through her nose. “Computer, open mission data.”

            A series of files fly across the ship’s screens, highlighting and annotating in the reflections of her eyes.

            [MAIN OBJECTIVE: Destroy Space Pirate threat.]

            [Project Dread is real and potentially poses a significant threat to all non-Pirate life. Mission designation is to acquire information as to the whereabouts and nature of Project Dread, report it back to Federation intelligence, and then assist in its neutralization. Constantly attendant artificial intelligences are Adam and Avo. The latter has been preprogrammed with a fabricated personality to assist in the main operative’s emotional stability.]

            “My ass,” Samus sighs. She continues reading through the documents.

            [FIRST OBJECTIVE: Visit space station Creighton to begin preliminary information gathering.]

            Samus’ eyes widen in panic. “Creighton?!”

            Avo moves to her side. <FEDERATION FIGURED IT’D BE THE BEST BET SINCE YOU GOT A HISTORY ON CREIGHTON. RUMOR WAS YOU FOUND A GOOD DEAL OF INFORMATION ON THE PIRATES THERE DURING YOUR PRIME BOUNTY HUNTING DAYS.>

            “Do they have any idea why I left?!”

            It shrugs its armored shoulders. <SADLY, THIS IS AN ORDER TOO. LOOKING AT IT ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, YOU ONLY GOT TO STAY UNTIL YOU FIND A GOOD LEAD. IT’LL INCENTIVISE YOU TO WORK!>

            Samus goes limp and leans back sorely in her chair. “They can’t do this to me. Not Creighton. This might be the worst fucking day of my life.”

            Avo flashes bright enough by Samus’ side to catch her attention. <TIME’S A-TICKING, PARTNER. WHOLE GALAXY AIN’T EXACTLY LOCATED IN THIS HERE GARAGE.>

            She gives a murderous look directly into the android’s camera eyes. They don’t blink. “You’re not giving me emotional stability.”

            <YOU’RE WARMING UP TO ME.>

            Samus sits up and begins pinning coordinates into the ship’s maps. She is about to finish, then pauses, deletes the coordinates, and begins inserting new ones.

            Avo leans over her shoulder. <EXCUSE ME FOR PRYING IN, BUT THAT AIN’T EXACTLY CREIGHTON.>

            “I know.” Samus says, locking in the digits and revving the ship’s engines. “I’m making a stop first. There’s no way in this universe I’m showing up to Creighton sober.”


End file.
